


Once In A Blue Moon

by Bookwrm389



Category: Star Fox Series
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Coming to Terms with the Past, M/M, Memorial Day Fic, Post Lylat War, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-27
Updated: 2019-02-27
Packaged: 2019-11-06 09:11:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17936957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bookwrm389/pseuds/Bookwrm389
Summary: Sometimes it takes remembering what was lost to cherish what you have. Sometimes it takes coming full circle to see how things have changed.





	Once In A Blue Moon

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on FF.net

It was an ugly thing, the monument dedicated to those who had perished in the Battle of Fichina. Stark and dreary like the planet itself, carved from the plainest stone with little embellishment, it was nothing more than a waist-high rectangular slab, easily mistaken for a picnic table surrounded by stunted trees and icy ponds and walkways. Only the list of names etched painstakingly into the stone revealed its true purpose. Fox recalled a time once when he had those various names and titles down by rote—a day not long after the war's end when he had stood in this barren park and given a brief speech to the several hundred who could be bothered to show up for the dedication and unveiling of the monument. Mainly families and friends and other locals, and a few visitors from off planet who had made the trip to this wretched place just to see Fox McCloud up close in person. Completely ignoring the date on the calendar and the tearful mourners gathered around the monument, gulping their coffee and stamping their feet in the bitter cold, openly annoyed to have come all this way only for Fox to refuse an autograph. Or a selfie. Or an autographed selfie with the monument in the background.  _That_  had been a new one and all the more memorable for it.

 _It's amazing the stupid things you remember,_  Fox thought with a bleak air. He stepped closer, breath gusting out in a pale mist as he brushed the snow from the names and read them for the first time in so many years. A few were familiar, but a few others had slipped his mind in the interim. Blanketed and smothered by all the life he had lived since then, hidden and forgotten like footprints beneath the snow. A few stray flakes drifted before his nose even as he watched and settled in the grooves of the names. Give it a few hours and this place would be one giant snowdrift, indistinguishable from any other.

He stepped back again, snow crunching beneath his boots, unnaturally loud in the silence of the park. It was late in the evening, yet already dark as deep night, and the temperature was falling fast. Fox could feel it in the way his nose and eyes stung, the way his ears folded down inside his jacket hood while his tail curled in and snaked around his own leg in search of warmth. Despite the atmospheric control center which made the days livable, the nights could still be treacherous. It might be best to head back into town, but still he remained and read the names over again. Thirty-three in total from all ages and walks of life. Soldiers and military scientists, interns and maintenance workers, and one unfortunate coffee delivery person, all present at the moment Venomian forces took the base and everyone within as hostages. The base itself hadn't even been all that valuable, not to Corneria and certainly not to Andross. Only the lives inside had mattered, and perhaps the research as an afterthought. Fox hadn't hesitated to volunteer his team for the rescue mission, despite the obvious trap staring him dead in the eye with jaws wide open. He had expected the enemy pilots waiting in ambush, and he had even anticipated the bomb as a worst case scenario. Those were things he could have reasonably handled if given half the chance.

The one thing he hadn't counted on was Star Wolf. He hadn't counted on being so outclassed in the air that there was no time to land and reach the base in time. No chance to disarm the bomb or to save a single hostage, no chance to do anything other than abort the mission, ensure the safety of his team and try not to think of those he was leaving to die. Fox still dreamed of it sometimes. Of flying for the base in a suicidal bid to reach the bomb in time, knowing he wouldn't make it but unable to alter his course, hearing those people he had never met screaming for him to save them, until the bomb went off and they were all swallowed together in silence and blinding light...

Sometimes Fox wondered if the hostages had known how close they were to being rescued. He wondered if they had known of the battle raging in the sky or if they had spent those last moments in despair and ignorance, helpless to do anything but pray and weep and watch the timer on the bomb slowly count down to zero. Then he wondered why it mattered at all. Either way the outcome had been no different and no less terrible.

A crackle of ice somewhere off in the distance made him start with the sudden knowledge that he was no longer alone. Fox hastily scrubbed at his face, but there were no tear tracks in his fur. His throat was tight and his heart ached with the heaviness of deep regret, but that was it. Somehow he had thought coming back here again would make him more emotional, but the pain was old and familiar and no longer quite so agonizing. Like the loss of his father, like the loss of so many other comrades, it was an unseen scar that he had learned to accept as part of his being and could no longer fathom being without.

A chill breeze swept through the park and whistled amongst the rocks and trees, rendering him briefly deaf as he clutched at his hood with one gloved hand and tried not to let his teeth chatter. He half turned and blinked the flakes from his eyes in search of whoever he had heard a moment ago. A few beams of hoary moonlight peeked through the clouds and spilled across the snow, a strange counterpoint to the dim frosted globes perched on infrequent lampposts skirting the walkways. A silhouette appeared within one of those halos of golden light, a hulking figure with a cane ambling around the pond in his general direction. Fox huffed tiredly and glanced back at the monument without interest. Just someone coming to pay their respects, and he wondered again if he should just leave. Even the locals preferred to be inside at this hour...but it soon became apparent that this was no local. Fox listened with increasing suspicion as the steps paused and then altered, the gait now quicker and less hobbling, the cane no longer tapping on the cement. The rich aroma of hot coffee snuck up on him as the newcomer reached his side and Fox finally recognized the profile out of the corner of his eye.

"Come here often?"

"Once in a blue moon," Fox said, which earned a chuckle from the other man. Fichina had nothing  _but_ blue moons. He turned to fully survey his companion and paused, taken aback. It was definitely the one he had been waiting for, but the first glimpse was deceiving since he was bundled in an oversized brown parka that was the thickest monstrosity of synth-fur Fox had ever seen. Impractical in all senses except perhaps warmth, it gave the lupine a considerably more bear-like appearance, and the ensemble was complete with massive hood, earmuffs, scarf and thick mittens, one of which was pinched delicately around a styrofoam Star Fawkes cup.

Wolf pursed his lips at the silent inspection. "What?" he barked.

"Cold?" Fox asked, and he couldn't quite suppress the snicker bubbling in his throat.

"Shut up," Wolf growled. He gulped at the coffee and leaned the cane up against the monument. "Could've picked any old place to meet up, maybe a nice temperate planet where the sun shines more than two hours a day, but  _nooo._  You had to pick the one place in the system that hell decided to freeze over..."

"I already had plans to be here today and  _someone_ didn't want to wait," Fox reminded him, to which Wolf grumbled and seemed to concede the point. "What's with the cane?"

"My master disguise," Wolf said with a smug air. He lifted the cup in a mock toast. "You forget what day it is? Between the cane and the eye patch, I've gotten half a dozen free coffees and a whole bunch of people thanking me for my service. If only they knew, eh?"

"Yeah," Fox said without enthusiasm. He frowned a little as he watched Wolf chug more coffee with obvious relish and wondered why no one had picked  _him_ out as a veteran and offered him a cup. Then he discarded the thought as inherently selfish and let his attention drift back to the monument with a twinge of remorse. No one would be offering them coffee anytime soon. No one had even bothered to leave a wreath of flowers, or some other small tribute considering how expensive imported flowers could be. Whereas the war monuments on Corneria and Macbeth and so many other planets would even now be swarming with visitors and offerings for those who had died in service. The survivors would speak of their courage, their selflessness in those famous space battles for the fate of the system...and meanwhile no one acknowledged Fichina and the desperate aerial struggle that had taken place in its foggy skies with a mere handful of lives at stake. No matter how little the battle itself had mattered in the grand scheme of things, the fact remained that every one of those thirty-three names had once mattered to  _someone_.

"...you still feel guilty about them?" Wolf asked in a subdued tone.

"I don't think I'll ever stop feeling guilty," Fox murmured. He cast the other man a questioning look. "It doesn't bother you? What happened to them?"

Wolf shook his head with his attention fixed on the monument. "Nah, not really. It was a war and we were on different sides. It happens. If I laid awake at night agonizing over every single person I killed, I'd never get any sleep again."

"They were noncombatants," Fox said with a trace of heat. Compelled somehow to defend them, as he had tried to defend them so long ago. "Some of them, anyway. They should never have been involved. None of them deserved to die like that, for no reason other than to prove how little Andross cared."

Wolf snarled and rolled his eye. "Sure, because Corneria  _never_  killed civilians on Venom or any of those other planets under Andross' control. I'll say it again, pup. It was war and these things happen. What, you want me to apologize or something?"

"No," Fox muttered. He had long since learned there was no changing who Wolf was at his core, but it was taking him a little longer to learn not to try.

"Good," Wolf said and immediately set his cup on the stone. Fox wrinkled his snout, ready to reprimand him despite himself, until Wolf crossed his arms and went on. "Waste of a holiday if you ask me. Completely pointless. We're all supposed to stand around acting all solemn and sorry for the Cornerian soldiers that got themselves killed in action, even though that's the job they signed up for in the first place which doesn't  _really_  make them heroes, just underachievers who couldn't find themselves a desk job with decent benefits..."

"You know my  _dad_  was a soldier at one time, right?" Fox reminded him.

Wolf ignored the comment. "And meanwhile, the rest of us who were lucky enough to get out alive, we get to wallow in our guilt just for the fact that we're still breathing and they're not. And yeah, the free coffee is nice and thoughtful, but you know it'd be even more thoughtful if they offered it to  _all_  the vets, not just the winners. What about all the dead guys on my side, huh? Where's our monuments and accolades for sticking to our guns to the very end, even after our  _esteemed_  emperor lost his marbles and betrayed all the freedoms we were fighting for?"

"It's not supposed to be about the monuments and accolades," Fox said with forced patience. "Just think about the name.  _Memorial_  Day. It's not about guilt, it's about respect. And...gratitude. Remembering those who were lost and learning from our mistakes so that maybe the next time war breaks out, we can avoid making those same mistakes all over again."

"Thought that's what history books were for?" Wolf sniffed in disdain, then he shrugged. "Not that it makes a difference for me, history being written by the winners and all that. God, can you imagine the shitty holidays we'd be celebrating if things had gone another way instead? Rejoice, all ye common folk, for today we commemorate The Day That Star Fox Died!"

Fox quirked his lips, unable to maintain his somberness in the face of Wolf's candor. Not to mention the mental picture of Andross dancing around waving a little flag with those brazen words stamped on the fabric. "That's a pleasant thought," he said dryly.

"And I mean it in the most sexy way possible," Wolf said with a sidelong leer. "Trust me, somewhere out there is an alternate universe where Star Wolf are the big heroes of Lylat and I'm the one setting flowers on your grave. You know, after I pissed on it first."

"You know what?" Fox said in mock contemplation, pointing to a blank stretch of snow beside the monument. "I think I've picked out a nice spot for  _your_ future grave. I even know what the epitaph would say. Wolf O'Donnell..."

"Biggest dick in the universe?"

"Fox McCloud's bitch," Fox said with a straight face, and he had to duck aside quickly when Wolf made a grab for him. He sidestepped around the monument and slipped on a patch of ice, one hand slapped on the hard edge of stone to keep his balance. Wolf began to give chase, then changed direction without warning, which forced Fox to backpedal to keep the monument as a barrier between them. Their gazes locked with an eager intensity across the stone, partly the spark of old rivalry but there was something else there too. A tantalizing energy, a secret thrill of the hunt that quickened Fox's heartbeat and caused Wolf to bare his teeth in a foolish grin.

"Nowhere to run," Wolf taunted, hands planted on the monument and halfway leaning across it. "You'd better watch yourself, McCloud. Things didn't turn out so well for you last time."

"Which last time?" Fox inquired, tense like a coiled spring, most of his focus on Wolf's slight movements and trying to guess which way he would pounce. "The last time we were here or the last time we were together?"

"Both!" Wolf retorted and flung a handful of frozen powder in his face. Fox yelped and sputtered at the sudden painful slap of cold and wet, crystals of ice stinging his eyes as he stumbled back and plopped on his ass in the snow. He spat out as much as he could and shook his vision clear to see Wolf towering over him in an attitude of arrogant victory. "Well,  _that_  was easy," he remarked. "Can't remember the last time you went down in one hit."

"Surprise attack, not fair," Fox mumbled, tongue too thick and stupid to spit out anything better. He expected Wolf to take full advantage of his defenseless position, but instead his former nemesis leaned down and offered a hand, which Fox gripped tightly and allowed to heave him back on his feet. He brushed his hands down the seat of his pants to dislodge the encrusted snow and readjusted his jacket, uttering a curse when a glacier-cold trickle of water snuck under his collar and made him shudder. "Mind if I have some of that coffee?"

"Sorry, drank it all," Wolf said, uncaring. But he was already in the act of clumsily opening the front of his parka, a decision which puzzled Fox at first.

"What are you doing?"

"Making sure we don't lose any valuable parts to frostbite," Wolf said with a meaningful tilt of his head. Fox hesitated, but not out of mistrust. It was merely an instinct stemmed from the nervousness of being out in public, out where nothing could shield them from the prying eyes of others. But Wolf was twice as cautious as he was and would not have made the offer if there was a chance of being seen. So Fox stepped closer, first peeling off his drenched gloves and stuffing them in his pocket before he slipped his arms beneath the coat and embraced the body inside until his fingers linked behind a broad back and there was not an inch of space between them. Wolf wrapped him up in the parka, the voluminous folds more than roomy enough to accommodate them both and zip shut again if need be, though Wolf simply held it closed with one hand, the other skimming lower to find a comfortable resting place at the small of his back. Fox buried his nose in the scarf and coarse fur at the hollow of his throat, eyes squinted shut, shivering in earnest now. He hadn't realized how badly the cold was affecting him, but Wolf's body was like a furnace beneath the parka, boiling to the touch, causing his fur to prickle strangely and setting all his nerves alight, like sinking his chilled body into a steaming hot bath.

Wolf chuckled, warm breath ghosting between his ears. "Cold?" he rumbled.

"S-Shut up," Fox said through clenched teeth, arms clamping ever more tightly, determined not to lose this very effective source of heat. Wolf hummed and nestled his chin on top of Fox's head, silent and unmoving save for the occasional gusting breath that rose like weak fog. Fox shuffled his feet a little closer, the heat ever so gradually sinking into his skin and penetrating right to the bone, oozing from his shoulders down to his hands and each individual fingertip. Even his tail unwound from its stiffened coil as the muscles in his back unknotted and relaxed one by one beneath Wolf's stroking hand. Fox heaved a deep sigh, inhaling the trace scents of coffee and cigarettes and pollution from the shuttle depot...and beneath it all a distinctive lupine scent that he had become intimately familiar with. There had been a time once when that scent, when Wolf's mere voice and presence, had driven him wild with excitement. When every kiss and touch had come with a healthy dose of trepidation, like a gambler rolling the dice or an addict taking a hit—an electrifying surge of danger and desire borne on a treacherous riptide of pure adrenaline. The kind of breathless, death-defying euphoria that Fox had only ever experienced in the cockpit of an Arwing.

It wasn't quite like that anymore. It was never meant to be more than that in the first place. In the beginning Fox had gladly thrown logic and caution to the wind, a willing slave to his body and his instincts, for he had known and accepted that it wouldn't last. A few weeks or months at most and the mutual lust would fizzle out as quickly as it flared, leaving them with nothing but passion-filled memories and a much more complicated working relationship.

But now a year had flown by and they still hungered for each other across the stars, drawn together time and again and leaving a multitude of trashed hotel suites in their wake. Fox had no desire to set aside his unlikely lover, and Wolf had shown no sign of flagging interest either, yet Fox knew sooner or later he must consider the reality of how much longer they could keep this on. There was no pretending what they had could ever be defined by the bounds of a common relationship. Their lives were too disconnected, their morals almost polar opposite, and they both had far too much to lose should their teams and the rest of Lylat become aware of these occasional trysts. Truly, when examined from a purely objective standpoint, the two of them together pretty much defied the laws of the universe and made no damn  _sense_. That Fox could stand here and be like this with Wolf, on the same ground where they had done everything in their power to spill each other's blood...

...but wasn't that the saddest truth of most wars anyway? That the people on the other side were not always the faceless, soulless monsters that his leaders would have him believe. That the enemy pilot he gunned down in a split second of cold-blooded determination could have easily been his best friend on some other day, in some other universe. And though there was no denying that Andross had been irredeemable and deserving of his fate, the same couldn't be said of so many others who had been dragged into that war alongside Fox and, willing or not, sacrificed their lives in the name of a higher cause.

 _It could have been us on that monument,_  Fox thought and frightened himself with that dire knowledge. Without opening his eyes and without much conscious thought, he tipped his head up, blindly seeking until Wolf met him halfway for a firm kiss that eliminated the last of the chill inside. There was little urgency behind it, nothing demanding or forceful, but they both lingered and kept their muzzles touching even after they parted. And then Wolf ruined the moment by smirking against his lips, shoulders trembling with a stifled snigger.

Fox scowled and pulled back. "What?"

"Nothing," Wolf said, licking his lips, expression alight with mischief. His eye darted over to the monument, and he bared his teeth in a feral grin. "It's just...we are  _seriously_  disrespecting the dead right now. I've done a lot of bad shit in my life, but this is the first time I've actually felt like I was doing something evil. I kinda like it."

"You are the  _worst_  kind of villain," Fox said blandly, which only made Wolf laugh harder at the old joke, by now practically a proverb he had said it so many times. "Really, I'd be doing everyone in Lylat a favor if I arrested you right now and hauled you off to prison."

"Mm, you  _could_  do that, but you won't."

"Oh,  _won't_  I? Why not?"

"Because then we'd be restricted to conjugal visits in a cellblock instead of long weekends in swanky five-star resorts, and  _that's_ just no fun," Wolf pointed out, catching his bottom lip in a gentle bite before moving to kiss him between words. "You'd only...be missing out...and you...know it..."

"Hmm...you may have a point," Fox said, pretending to think it over, and he surrendered when he felt teeth nip sharply at his neck and a rough grab at the base of his tail. "Ah, fine! I'm feeling merciful today, so just this once I'll let you go. But we'll meet again, Star Wolf. Better learn to sleep with one eye open."

"Har har," Wolf snorted and kissed him one more time, most likely to rest his case, and Fox couldn't help moaning into it and wondering what happened to his dignity in the process. He couldn't remember the last time someone had made him feel this way, open and unashamed, like there was no reason to hold back. So willing to surrender and lose himself in the moment, past and future forgotten...but only until the kiss ended and Fox settled his head comfortably on Wolf's shoulder, which brought the monument back into his line of sight. And that old ache slowly crept back into his heart, eating away at him, the one he could never seem to shake no matter how many years passed or how many times he and Wolf shared a bed. He could hear that familiar reproachful voice in his head even now, berating him for allowing this, for  _enjoying_ this, even as an infrequent guilty pleasure. And at the same time a more brazen part of him snarled back that he had nothing to be ashamed of, that things had changed and  _they_ had changed and there was no point in clinging to the past if it was only going to hold him back.

"...you're feeling guilty again."

"A little bit," Fox admitted. "Sorry. Guess I can't help it."

Wolf exhaled heavily. "Yeah, I know," he said in a strange tone, equal parts annoyance and affection. He ruffled the fur on Fox's head and followed his gaze to the monument, for once utterly grave in expression and voice. "What do you think they'd say? If they could see us now, I mean? Think it would piss them off?"

"I don't know what they would say to us," Fox said honestly. He thought for a moment and went on more strongly. "But I know what I would say to them. I mean...the first thing would probably be an apology, but...I would also thank them. Not because I'm glad they're dead, but because of the lesson it taught me. You know that, throughout the entirety of the war, Star Fox never failed a mission except for here on Fichina? Against your team?"

"I know," Wolf said, insufferably smug. "If nothing else came of that war, at least Star Wolf went down in history as the ones who whooped your ass."

Fox raised his head to look him in the eye soberly. "It was my first loss as a team leader. And it came at such a terrible price. It was one of the worst days of my life...and it was also the kick in the pants I needed. For the first time I stopped thinking about the war in terms of winning or getting revenge or showing what I was made of. Instead I measured myself by how many lives I saved and what kind of a difference I could make. I understood for the first time that it was  _Andross_ I had to stop. Not his armies, not his bioweapons, just him. Everything else was collateral damage standing in my way. Even that second dogfight on Venom was barely a blip on my radar."

"Oh  _thanks_ , pup," Wolf grumbled. "Good to know the one battle where I nearly  _died_  and ended up maimed for life meant so little to you."

"It was only your voice that got maimed, nothing else," Fox snorted. He gave a teasing smile and nuzzled Wolf's neck where shrapnel scars still lingered beneath a thinning coat of gray and white fur. "Besides, I think it did you a favor. You don't sound like such a snide little prick anymore."

"Alright, you know what?" Wolf said irritably and promptly shoved him out of the balmy shelter of the parka, then zipped it shut again. "Cuddle time is over. I've hit my quota for the day."

"Fine, have it your way," Fox muttered, trying to feign aloofness when every other part of him keened at the loss. He shoved his hands in his pockets, instantly shivering again as the breeze knifed through his jacket and bit mercilessly at every inch of exposed skin and fur. "You know, there are times when I really wish I  _could_ talk to them. Just so they could know what their sacrifice meant to me. The battle here wasn't meaningless, no matter what anyone else says. It's something that I'll never forget. So many things might not have happened, if not for them. I might not have had it in me to beat you that second time on Venom. I might not have faced Andross at all...or even if I did, it would've been for all the wrong reasons. I guess...I'd forgotten for awhile what my team was supposed to stand for, the whole reason my dad created Star Fox in the first place. It was never for the fame or the money, it was for the sake of people like them. And I lost sight of that."

Fox ducked his head and sighed. "I still wish I could have saved them. I wish every day that lesson hadn't come at the cost of their lives. But since I can't change what happened back then...the least I can do is remember and be grateful."

"Hm," Wolf grunted, noncommittal. It was difficult to tell if he was listening or cared in the slightest. Nothing more was said for a moment, and Fox allowed himself to sink into the past and mentally relive that day so long ago. But this time the memories and the guilt weren't quite so much of a burden, now that he had come to terms with it and found some meaning that had been lacking before. He was content in knowing that he had done everything he could, even if it wasn't enough, and no one could ask more than that.

"Probably is a good thing you won that second round on Venom," Wolf said out of the blue. "You know for awhile there, I really thought Andross was gonna win that war. Part of why I sided with him in the first place. But looking back now, I'm glad he's dead. He would've made life hell for all of us."

Fox nodded, glad they could agree on that much. He started when Wolf bumped his arm. "Want to get out of here? Go someplace a little warmer?"

"Yeah," Fox answered with another nod and waited for Wolf to pick up his cane before they turned away from the monument and started along the path back to town, boots sinking into the snow and leaving deep prints in their wake. "I've got a room at that lodge near the shuttleport. It's not exactly swanky or five-star, but at least they don't overcharge if you crank the room heater all night..."

"Heh," Wolf laughed quietly, and when Fox paused, he noticed the lupine regarding him with deep amusement. "I  _was_  thinking more along the lines of coffee and a bite to eat first. But if you'd rather skip straight to the dessert round..."

Fox blinked in surprise and couldn't help chuckling. "No, sounds good to me. I haven't eaten since breakfast, I don't think. You buying?"

"Not if I can help it," Wolf said with a toss of his head. "Just watch this crippled vet in action. Two hot meals on the house, and I won't even have to ask for it. The waitstaff will take one look at the cane and my solemn, dignified manner and won't be able to help themselves."

"You poor little one-eyed scam artist."

"Where's the scam in it?" Wolf demanded. "The way I see it, we get free food, and they get to feel good about themselves. Everybody goes home happy. In case you hadn't noticed, I  _am_  trying to be a little less villainous these days. Maybe at some point those Cornerian generals of yours will stop being morons and realize there  _are_  worse people out there than me and my team, and  _maybe_  it would be in their best interest to hire us for actual legitimate jobs, not waste their resources hunting us down every time we're seen planet-side..."

Fox nearly stepped into the iced-over pond by the path, a flicker of something warm and happy alighting in his chest. It took him a moment to recognize it as optimism. "That...would be great, actually! Do you want me to talk to General Pepper about dropping your bounties? See if there's any wiggle room to negotiate?"

Wolf whipped his head around so fast that his hood fell off. He jerked it back in place and cast a doubtful eye at Fox like he suspected a trap. "I wasn't serious."

"I was," Fox insisted. "The charges for war crimes could at least be mitigated, since you were under contract at the time and not exactly in a position to refuse. And if you can prove that your team's willing to work within the law from now on, then...maybe Corneria would be willing to give you another chance. It's worth a try, right?"

Wolf hesitated, and the lack of outright refusal only proved how tempted he was. Fox could see it in the way that one violet eye flicked back and forth between both of Fox's green ones, seeking out the lie and finding none, guarded but at the same time so quick to hope.

"Honestly," Fox added, "I'd rather fly with you than against you. And it'd also be nice one of these days to book a reservation under our actual names."

Wolf cleared his throat and glanced off into the falling snow and the shadows of the trees. "I'll think about it."

"Okay," Fox said, delighted at the minor victory, but knowing better than to push it right now. Wolf would only push back, the cynical and untrusting criminal part of him refusing to believe it was that easy. Openly questioning the hand extended in friendship, always anticipating the hidden dagger behind his enemy's back. He would bring it up later—preferably later tonight when Wolf was undressed and dozing in his arms, sated and mellow and more willing to listen. Fox began to walk again, already planning how exactly he would attain that pliant state in his lover, when he was stopped by a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey. Wait here a sec."

Fox waited, puzzled when Wolf passed him the cane, then turned and strode back the way they had come. He thought at first that Wolf had only gone back for the styrofoam coffee cup, since that was the first thing he grabbed once he reached the monument. But the leader of Star Wolf remained there for a long moment in silence, as if reading over the names or lost in his own thoughts. He attempted to reach into his pocket for something, and when the mitten proved too much of a hindrance, he bit it off and used his bare fingers to clumsily fish out a small brooch of some kind. Fox recognized it right away as one of those cheap Memorial Day pins, a simple flower sewn from white fabric and a blue ribbon with the words  _Always Remember_  stitched in gold. Some kid had probably been handing them out to everyone at the shuttle depot.

Wolf stepped forward and carefully set the pin on the monument, the act neither rushed nor unnecessarily grand, but meaningful all the same. The flower and ribbon were barely visible from a distance and no doubt would soon be covered in freshly fallen snow, hidden along with the names until the next time the sun rose and melted it away. All in all, it was a fairly pointless and token gesture. But Fox was still smiling by the time Wolf left the monument and caught up to him again, which earned him an uncomfortable glare and a pointed finger.

"Not a word."

"I didn't say anything," Fox said, the expression not fading in the slightest as Wolf fell into step beside him. He eased closer and peeked at Wolf's face, trying to gauge his mood before tenderly taking his hand. Wolf huffed, but gave his hand a squeeze before letting go and instead wrapping his arm around Fox's waist, one hand slipping in his back pocket with the ease and security of one who knows his touch is welcome. Fox returned the half hug and leaned on his shoulder as they walked, both slowing the pace as if by mutual agreement to put off that moment when they would reach town and be forced to lose this closeness.

"So where do you want to eat?"

"No preference, as long as it's not Star Fawkes."

Wolf chuckled. "Yeah, their food sucks," he agreed and cast a curious glance at the logoed cup in his hand. "Speaking of, how come you haven't sued these guys yet?"

"Can't, we tried," Fox said dismally. "The guy who owns the chain actually  _is_  named Fawkes, so we can't sue him for that. And we don't own the word 'star' any more than we own an actual star."

"You need better lawyers," Wolf informed him. "But then again, if you did shut this place down, I'd have to hurt you a little for taking away my favorite coffee place."

"I thought you just said they sucked...?"

"I said the food sucks, their coffee is freaking  _ecstasy_..."

The conversation meandered on much as they did, content and unhurried, dwelling on the mundane of the present rather than the ugly tragedy at their backs. But just for a moment—unseen by the two mercenaries as they moved beyond the frozen pond and out of sight—the clouds finally broke and scattered apart and all fell to stillness beneath the radiance of the moon and night sky, the monument gleaming in regal solitude as the snow upon it shimmered like fallen stars.


End file.
